Baptism by Ice
by moonswirl
Summary: Gleekathon, day eight hundred and thirteen: Now Lucy's one of them, and the rest of the school is noticing in the way it does...


_Started my daily ficlets to make the hiatus pass, then decided to keep going with a 2nd cycle, and then a 3rd, 4th, etc through 38th cycle. Now cycle 39!_

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><p><em><strong>INTRODUCING "CHEAT SHEET" - <strong>If you want to know ahead of time when a certain series will be updated next, just reassemble the link below and check out the list, save it, print it, bookmark it, whatever you need!  
>Go to: <span>gleekathon [dot] tumblr [dot] com [slash] cheatsheet<span>_

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><p><strong>"Baptism by Ice"<br>Artie/Lucy (OC)  
>Sequel to "Love Actually" <strong>

The day had already started less than stellar for her, this much he knew. A few days ago her guitar had been involved in an 'unfortunate' tumble during Glee practice. It was not as though she blamed anyone, still it would have to be fixed. This morning though she had received the estimate on repairs and she'd almost dropped her phone.

"Good thing I didn't, I already can't afford the repair on the guitar," she'd told him. "Well, I can, but if I do… I said I wasn't going to dip into those savings…" she shook her head.

"I'll help," he offered as they moved down the hall, but she shook her head.

"No, I wasn't saying it so you would…"

"I know, but I want to," he insisted.

"Don't worry about me, I'll find a way," she smiled to him.

"You usually do," he confirmed, smiling back.

"Yeah, you just wait, I'm going to…"

Her voice cut out with the shock of ice striking her right in the face. It had happened so fast, Artie had not seen the Slushie coming for her, but it was like some sort of reflex trigger, all he had to do was hear the liquid ice leave the cup, a sound he was all too familiar with, and then he was alert, looking around but there was only one cup that day, and it had been meant for her…

"Holy f… reeze, that's cold…" she wasn't sure how to move, and turning to her he saw she'd gotten hit pretty good in the eyes. He was very tempted to rocket off down the hall and ram the guy who'd done it, but he wasn't about to leave her like this.

"Are you okay? Your eyes…" he reached for her hand, and the way she clasped his one with both of hers he pretty much knew the answer.

"Can't see, and everything smells like lime… Be honest, do I look like 'Wicked on Ice'?" He took her joking as a good sign.

"We need to get you out of here, just… Here," he did his best to direct her hands to grab on to his chair's handles. "Holding?" he asked.

"Yeah, don't go too fast."

He guided her along, debating which bathroom to go to. He went for the girls', eventually. They'd understand, due to the situation, and the boys' bathroom could have just meant more trouble. "If anyone asks, you asked me to come," he told her, nearing the door.

"If it wasn't for the ice burn, I'd crack a joke here," she nodded, then hearing the door swing, "It's alright, I asked him to help… girls… gals… ladies… Is there actually anyone here?" she looked down in Artie's general direction.

"Uh… no… We're clear," he declared.

"Great…" she spoke awkwardly, then twisted. "Oh, some of it is sliding down my back, get it out, get it," she begged, turning.

"I… well…" he hesitated, feeling his throat close.

"Please, before it gets… further…" he could tell the situation wasn't exactly blush free for her either.

"Right," he reached under the bottom of her shirt, exposing her back, and reaching for the clump of green ice. His fingers grazed what he'd rightly imagined to be soft skin. He wasn't sure if what he saw of goose bumps were due to the ice or him. "I got it," he informed her.

"Thanks…" she breathed out, and silence settled. "You can… let go, if you want… there's… my eyes," she gestured, and he let go of the shirt.

"R… yes… sorry," he dropped the ice on the ground, seeing as she had already dripped on it. "Can you scoop any of it out?"

"Probably," she reached to do so. "I'm scared I'll poke some of it in there, but I'm pretty sure the syrup is fusing them shut…" Her hands were getting to be as green as her face, neck… shirt…

"Here," he'd gotten a paper towel, soaked and wrung out. He couldn't reach her, so it would be easier this way. She reached out blindly and he put the towel in her hand.

"Thanks," she started carefully cleaning at her eyes. He just waited, checking the door, checking that no other clumps of ice would run off on her, though he'd have been ready and willing to assist… "Did I fry your brain?" He blinked and looked up after a moment. Her eyes were open again, and judging by the smirk on her face she must have caught him staring.

"Sorry…" he looked away, but by her chuckle he couldn't picture her being too upset. He looked back to find she'd moved to the mirrors, continuing to clean up. "I can go, if you don't…"

"No, stay," she insisted. "There could be more ice clumps…"

"Right, ice clumps," he nodded and she quietly did the same; she didn't want him to go. "This was your first Slushie," he commented.

"First… So guess there'll be more… Feels good to be part of the club, except for this part, that's… I could do without that one," she frowned down to her shirt which had once been white… "Of all the days…" Then she remembered her guitar, and she chuckled and sighed at once. "Well it can only get better, right?"

"Depends we haven't seen what they're serving at lunch yet," he pointed out and she laughed.

"It'll either be the nastiest thing ever or it'll exceed levels of awfulness to the point of turning right into tastefulness… I gotta say, I'd be curious to see that." His face scrunched at the thought. "Yeah, unlikely," she agreed.

"I'll get the guy who did this," he swore, but she shook her head, which sent a few drops of ice flying.

"Don't do that," she begged. "It'll just be more trouble… it's fine," she promised. "Happy just knowing you'd… defend my honor," she breathed with a smile.

"Yes, I would," he confirmed.

"That's all I need," she leaned down to kiss him, and her face stuck to his as she pulled back. "Oops," she laughed, reaching to clean his face from the syrup transfer. "Well, that, and clean clothes," she looked down at herself.

"Got any of those?"

"Well, I…" she peeled off her shirt, under which she still had a camisole. He tried not to stare, he really did. She looked back in the mirror. "This will have to do, it's less stained. I'd put my gym shirt on, but I'm pretty sure it's a health code violation after the running we had to do yesterday," she cringed.

"Yeah… better not…" he agreed, and why did the back of that camisole have to ride up, that was just…

"No shampoo either," she had to try and get her hair under the water.

"How has no one come in yet…" Artie mumbled under his breath… This was getting to be too much and he was only a guy…

"Almost done, sorry," he heard her call out, and it was like she knew.

"You're enjoying the torture, aren't you?"

"Well, I've just been slushied, I figure I deserve the entertainment."

"Fair enough," he nodded, as she twisted the excess water out of her hair, pulled an elastic from her pocket and tied her hair up. She turned to face him. He blinked. The Slushie was gone now, along with what little make-up she wore… He was just in awe.

"Think this will do?" she asked.

"Absolutely…" he'd never seen her so beautiful as she looked then, just as herself and little more.

THE END

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><p><strong>AN: This is a one-shot ficlet, which means that signing up for story alert will not bring you any alerts.  
><strong>**In the event of a sequel, the story will be separate from this one. And as chapter stories go, they are  
><strong>******always clearly indicated as such [ex: "Days 204-210" in the summary] Thank you!******


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